Fairness Is Overrated
by Ellinell
Summary: Rose Weasley knew life wasn't fair. But, just this once, she'd have appreciated it if her days weren't so full of Scorpius Malfoy. Could some things really be a blessing in disguise?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Everything recognizable belongs to JK Rowling.

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**FAIRNESS IS OVERRATED — _CHAPTER ONE_**

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When I was younger, Mum always had a habit of telling me, "Life isn't fair," when I would resort to proclaiming how miserable my existence had become.

She still did, but rarely nowadays. Over the years, I had actually grasped the fact that life did not occur on a balanced scale, and therefore learned to only say my beloved motto during times of dire need.

This was one of them.

I stared across the compartment to the wizard _conveniently_ seated in front of me, truly unable understand what exactly I'd done to subject myself to this cruel and unusual punishment.

Okay, so maybe that was taking it a bit too far. Still, this arrangement had _not_ been something I'd hoped for.

Against all hope, the enemy's voice reached my ears. "You didn't suddenly become mentally inept over the summer, did you? That's unfortunate, and to think I actually somewhat looked forward to beating you this year," he drawled lazily.

"I'm sure in your dreams you could," I informed him casually, as if we were discussing the weather (which I might add, was turning quite dismal—rainclouds and everything). I couldn't, however, refrain from narrowing my eyes as I caught sight of the shiny gold badge pinned against his polo shirt.

I swear the words _Head Boy_ only glowed that brightly through magical means.

"Really Rose, you wound me," said Malfoy. I cringed as I heard him refer to me by my first name. He only did that because he knew how much it bothered me.

And it worked.

That's it. I was totally going to reject this position. There was no motivation like face-to-face encounters with the ever-so-charming Scorpius Malfoy.

"Oh and we both know you aren't going to give up Head Girl," he continued in the same disinterested vein. "So don't bother with the act."

It irked me how he knew this, therefore compelling me to childishly say, "I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm sure it just stems from the need to constantly hear your own shrilly voice."

Doing what he was best at, he ignored me. "I suppose I understand, though. Obviously, when matched with someone as intelligent and fit as myself, it's bound to bring out the worst in anyone." He paused. "Oh wait, but you're always like that. Guess there really is no hope for you," he said, eyeing me up and down.

Despite everything I believed in, I felt my face heat up. He smirked at my reaction.

Urgh. I was not one of his brainless fan girls. We were non-friends. No matter how traitorous my body was, I was resolved to not respond. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

I decided to train my eyes back on him—because avoiding eye contact made me appear embarrassed and would only confirm his suspicions—but no way was I going to talk.

So I resorted to scoping out the enemy, completely disregarding the fact that I'd known him for the past six years.

But come on. Hair that platinum-blond just begged the million-dollar question to be asked: was it even _natural_? And why was it so messy? It was worse than Al's, and _that_ was saying something.

And . . . what was it those girls constantly raved about? Killer cheekbones? Chiselled features? Yeah right.

Aghh, why did I even care?

His smug voice interrupted my thoughts. "Checking me out, are we?"

"Being delusional again, are we?" I suppressed the urge to gag.

He continued to smirk.

I glared.

He raised his eyebrows.

I—

A dark brown owl flew in the window. It carried a letter with Hogwarts' crest.

Malfoy and I exchanged glances for a split second.

And both lunged for it. He won.

Smirking triumphantly, he dangled the letter above my head, just a tad too high for me to reach.

I glared at him as he abused his height; he knew how much I hated my shorter stature. "You cheated," I said accusingly.

"If that's what it takes for you to fall asleep at night . . ."

"The only way I can fall asleep is if my mind is devoid of thoughts of _you_," I snapped.

"Explains why you're such an insomniac, then."

I clenched my teeth. I was _not_ going to dignify that comment with a response.

"And just _how_ exactly was I 'cheating'?" His voice was a bit curious.

"You have an unfair advantage with your abnormally long arms."

Hmm. Maybe I should've thought that through beforehand.

"Honestly, Rose. You're making me blush. I know how much you adore my _skills_, but I'd appreciate if you could try to contain your enthusiasm, or at least keep it to a minimum," he smirked. "If that's not _too_ difficult."

I rolled my eyes. "I'll try my best. Just open the letter."

This only broadened his smirk, but he obliged and did as I asked.

"'Ms. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy,'" he began. "'Congratulations once more on achieving the prestigious titles of Head students. As the leaders of the student body, you are expected to be role models for not only students younger than you, but your peers as well. Your first task is to address the Prefects. You will receive other paperwork to complete afterwards. I will speak to you both after the feast, and expect it all to be impeccably finished. I have complete confidence in your skills. Good luck, Professor McGonagall.'"

I wanted to pound my head against the wall. _Paperwork? _Every being on this planet despised that word.

If I had any doubts McGonagall was secretly attempting to kill me, they were all erased now.

Malfoy + Paperwork = Rose's Nightmare.

Malfoy stood up with a slight grimace. The only redeeming part of all this was that at least he had to suffer too.

* * *

I was beyond tired.

Let me tell you, Prefect meetings weren't all they're cracked up to be. And the allure of being Head Girl? A complete and total illusion.

I'd lost count of the idiotic questions a few of them seemed so intent on asking. It got to be so unbearable that I wasn't sure if they were really the same pointless questions—only through slightly different wording—or if it was my own mind playing tricks on me. I wasn't sure which I'd prefer, because it was just frightening! I thought these people were supposed to be smart.

Louis was no help either. He'd somehow snuck out half-way through the torture. Probably to hang out with Al. Traitor.

Malfoy had abandoned me as well. Well, he was _present_. Only behind a curtain in the corner keeping some constantly giggling blonde Hufflepuff girl _company_.

I'd never been so grateful to Mum for teaching me _Muffliato_ than right then. I didn't fancy vomiting up all the breakfast Gran had prepared.

Anyhow, the extended hours spent with these extraordinarily intelligent people only served to prolong my time with Malfoy—which, of course, was just icing on the cake.

_And then_, we had to make patrol schedules and do all this other paperwork McGonagall had sent along. All before we'd even arrived at school!

Of course, I couldn't survive all the time with Malfoy—an endless cycle of smirking and sarcastic remarks made for a very unhappy Rose—and so I took refuge with Albus, naturally forcing him to fill out the paperwork with me.

Louis, coincidentally, had other business to take care of. Likely with that new girlfriend of his.

But no matter. Al and I had fun assigning Louis to patrol with Tim Corner, possibly the most arrogant wizard on the planet. Even Malfoy couldn't hold a candle to the . . . um, _splendour_, that was Corner.

(Well no, that was a lie. They were almost equal in this department, except Malfoy surpassed him just a tad.)

Seriously. Busy, busy day.

Now that I thought about it, I wasn't quite sure how I survived all that.

I hoped today wouldn't represent how the rest of my year would be like, because I definitely would not make it. I even fell asleep for a few minutes during the feast, and woke up with my head on Louis' shoulder.

Obviously, he didn't care.

His girlfriend, though—whole other story. She was absolutely livid. Like full-on fuming. I was a bit taken aback, really. The entire school knew we were related; did she think we were into incest? Honestly, I didn't even know why Louis was with her. He'd even admitted to me and Al that he didn't really like her. I guess she was pretty enough though.

Boys. I'll never understand them.

But anyway, McGonagall was now saying a few last words to us, and all I would have to do was escort the newbies to the Gryffindor common room, meet McGonagall, and then I would be home free!

"Now, before I release you all to your common rooms, I'd like to make an announcement. This year, our Head Girl and Boy will be none other than Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy! Rose, Scorpius, I'm sure you'd both like to come up here and say a few words," she beamed.

The hall burst into applause, and many people cheered, including my cousins and friends. Of course, some, like Al and Louis, only cheered to contribute to my already fantastically cheerful mood.

I did not share such excitement.

Besides, didn't McGonagall see I was dead tired?

Clenching my teeth while forcing on a smile, I dragged my feet up to the front of the hall. I could see Malfoy doing the same; only he hid his irritability much better than I was sure I did.

We met right in front of the staff table; I quickly shot him a meaningful look as the din came to an abrupt stop.

"Hi everyone," I said with my best smile. "I'm Rose."

"And I'm Scorpius." He flashed a crooked smile at them and I swore some people swooned. It was ridiculous.

"For all of you who are familiar with this place," he continued in that same smooth manner of his. "We hope you had a great summer and it's great to see you back here." It was so strange to hear him speak, it sounded almost sincere.

"But for those who are new," I said, not to be outdone by Malfoy, "don't worry. You'll have an awesome time here. And never hesitate to ask for help if you need it."

Malfoy smirked. "Of course, we're always here to help."

I ignored him. "Anyway, it's getting late," I spoke the words I yearned to say since I first walked up here, "so I'm sure you're all eager to get to your rooms. Thank you and I look forward to seeing you guys this year."

Malfoy nodded. "Yeah, thanks a lot and hope to see you around," he said, adding a wink for good measure.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Was it my imagination or did that girl really just faint into her bread pudding?

What a waste of a perfectly good dessert.

"Thank you, Rose and Scorpius," said McGonagall, allowing us to return to our seats.

She continued, "They are quite right, of course. It is getting late and you all must unpack and settle in." I beamed. "Classes start first thing tomorrow morning. Good night everyone. Prefects and Heads, please show your house members to your common rooms."

I stood up with Albus and Louis. "Get them in line, Weasley," I told Louis.

"So rude," he rolled his eyes. But he loved me and was too accustomed to my sometimes unpleasant behaviour and began rounding up the other Gryffindors anyway.

Al raised an eyebrow at me. "How's it going with Malfoy?"

"Like heaven," I replied sarcastically.

He smirked and swung an arm around me. "Glad to hear it." Oh the encouragement, thanks best friend. "Oh," his tone changed remarkably. "He didn't—er—by any chance mention anything about Quidditch, did he?"

I snorted. Really, Al, really?

Al was Gryffindor's Seeker and Captain. Malfoy was the same for Slytherin.

Naturally, they had a ginormous rivalry, though surprisingly, they were pretty decent to each other off the pitch. I'd never be able to understand it.

"He told me he'd share all his tactics with us. We'll discuss it all over crumpets and tea every Sunday. Don't forget to tell Louis. He'll be devastated if he's left out," I informed Al.

"Ah," nodded Al. "As expected, of course. I can't wait to ask Malfoy what he thinks about replacing my Keeper. I'm sure he'll have delightful opinions to share. Maybe he'll even have a few suggestions."

We looked at each other for a moment.

And burst into laughter.

We were still clutching to each other and laughing like maniacs when Louis found us.

"I leave for a couple of minutes, and the two of you completely lose your minds." Louis sighed sadly. "This'll be a fun letter to write home. I'd hoped this moment wouldn't arrive so soon."

"But—but crumpets!" I exclaimed.

"And tea!" added Al.

Louis nodded sympathetically.

I blamed it all on exhaustion. Paperwork overload.

"Come on," he pushed us towards the exit. "Wouldn't want to keep them all waiting."

We led them to Gryffindor Tower. Or rather, Louis led while Al and I followed with everyone else.

As we approached the portrait of the Fat Lady, a first year giggled and tapped my arm.

I looked over, smiling as I saw how angelic she seemed. "Oh hey, what's up?"

"I'm Madison," she said, quite self-importantly and irritatingly. "You're so lucky to be working with Scorpius Malfoy. That guy is _so_ hot!"

I stared at her. Apparently appearances were very deceiving. I wasn't sure what was more alarming, the fact that these first years already thought like this, or that they had developed such bad taste at such an early age.

The future of magical kind was a frightening concept to imagine.

One thing was certain, though, Malfoy's fan club would have no trouble recruiting new misguided souls.

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A/N: Thanks for reading and I really hope you'll leave a review. I know this concept has been done hundreds of times before, but I have lots of fresh ideas so I'd love to hear your thoughts on this first chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

**FAIRNESS IS OVERRATED — _CHAPTER TWO_**

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After making sure all the first years were comfortably settled—or at least found their room—I headed out to meet Professor McGonagall.

The corridors still held a good number of people—mostly upperclassmen catching up with friends from different houses. Many of them offered me congratulations when they saw me.

I couldn't help but groan at this. It was exactly what I didn't need. More reminder of "paradise" with a certain Slytherin prick.

When I reached McGonagall's office, Malfoy was just walking up. He straightened out his tie with a smirk on his face.

I rolled my eyes. He likely just left a brief detour to the broom closet.

"I suppose you just returned from inspecting the closet cleaning supplies?" I said mockingly, arching an eyebrow.

"What—didn't you? I hear the weather's quite nice this time of year," he drawled.

I ignored him, knocking twice on the mahogany doors.

"Come in," came Professor McGonagall's calm voice.

We entered, the door shutting behind us on its own accord.

I smiled at the woman sitting behind the stately desk. The dimmer lighting softened her usually strict features. She didn't look like someone plotting to drive me to murder.

Although it would be unsurprising if such possibility of the _tragedy_ that could befall Malfoy hadn't crossed her mind before—it happened to everyone.

"Good evening, Rose, Scorpius," she said, her voice tired but not lacking its usual sincerity.

"Good evening, Professor," I smiled.

"Good evening, Professor," said Malfoy.

"I hope you both had lovely summers. I'd just like to congratulate the two of you once more. You have both been excellent students and role models throughout your years here, and I expect that behaviour shall continue. Now, with the prestigious titles of Head students comes responsibility, I'm sure you are aware. You will be in charge of supervising the other students, managing the Prefects, including proper conduct and patrol schedules, as well as the organization of school functions—among other things."

We both nodded.

"However, that's not to say there aren't any advantages either. As Head students, you have the authority to deduct points from any student and issue detentions with punishments of your own choosing—with proper justification, of course. I'm sure you'll have no problem with that, Rose." She looked expectantly at Malfoy.

He chuckled. "Right, professor."

She nodded, a hint of a smile present. "Good. Now, the greatest privilege is, of course . . . having private living quarters. It is a reward for all your hard work, and an incentive to continue doing so."

My eyes widened drastically. Oh Merlin. No. No, no, no, no, _no._ This could _not_ be happening. How did I not realize this? It had completely slipped my mind!

Oh my God.

Living with _Malfoy_? _Alone_?

"Are you all right, Rose? You look pale. Do you require a visit to the Hospital Wing?" McGonagall asked in concern.

"Oh, er, no I'm fine. Just a bit tired," I said as convincingly as I could without vomiting all over her desk. I doubted she'd appreciate that, although she might be sympathetic of the certain nightmarish horrors I faced.

"All right," McGonagall nodded slowly. "Well if that's the case, rest is the best remedy. Time to be acquainted with your rooms." She stood up and strode towards the door. "Follow me."

Malfoy gestured mockingly in a sweeping motion. "Ladies first."

I, of course, thrilled at the prospect of living alone with him, glared and walked out.

Professor McGonagall led us to the Seventh Floor, stopping in front of a painting of a snowy day.

"I trust you will remember the way here. Remember, a password is not required for the verification of your identity. The door will only open to no one but the two of you, and only the two of you are allowed to enter."

Was it me or did she add extra emphasis when looking at Malfoy?

Trust me, the accusation was not unfounded.

"Now, I must go. Simply trace your finger along a swirl of snow and the rest shall reveal itself. Good evening," she said. "Oh, and have fun," she added with a smile.

"Thank you, Professor," I said, even though I thought she was mental.

"Have a nice evening," said Malfoy, his voice sounding almost as if he meant it.

She nodded and headed down the corridor. I watched until she disappeared, so as to delay any necessary interaction with Malfoy.

"Well don't just stand there," sighed an exasperated voiced.

That was not Malfoy's voice.

I turned towards the sound, startled. It came from the painting. From . . . a snowman?

"Er—sorry. Hi," I said uncertainly.

The snowman stared at me, its coal mouth arranged into an irritated expression. "Would you just do what the headmistress asked? I don't have all day, you know."

"Right," I said, although clearly I didn't know. "Of course." I threw a confused look at Malfoy, who merely looked uninterested.

I scanned the painting, deciding on a bit of snow near the icy pond. I raised a fingertip to it, tracing along the swirling pattern.

Immediately as I finished, the entire length of snow shimmered, glowing gold. It was like one of those fingerprint scanners Muggles used.

"Yes, yes," muttered the snowman. "Hurry up, boy," he ordered, waving his branch arms impatiently at Malfoy.

Malfoy decided on a gust of snow near the snowman's black top hat.

"Awfully close there, aren't you?" scowled the snowman. I bit back a laugh. "Ever heard of personal space?"

At this, I _really_ had to work to hide my laughter. The answer was no: the boy did _not_ know how to respect others' space. He was apparently born with the instilled idea that whatever he wanted was fair game.

Malfoy rolled his eyes as his swirl of snow glowed silver. "What's your rush, anyway?"

The snowman narrowed his button eyes. "If you _must _know, I have a date in an hour," he boasted. "And I still haven't refrozen my snow! Perfection like this doesn't come easy, you know?" he remarked indignantly.

"Oh, no. Malfoy _does _know. His best friend is the mirror," I said humourlessly.

Malfoy glared at me.

"That's perfectly understandable, of course," said the snowman, nodding approvingly.

Malfoy turned to the snowman, waving me off carelessly. "Don't mind her, she's always like this."

"Is she, now?" The snowman eyed me warily. "How unfortunate."

I crossed my arms irately.

Malfoy smirked. "Yes, isn't it?"

The snowman nodded. "Be that as it may, I do have a tight schedule to keep. So . . ." His portrait swung open smoothly.

I unwillingly followed Malfoy inside.

"Remember to always touch the same piece of snow. Now, don't bother me!" he yelled as the portrait swung back into place.

Malfoy turned towards me. "It really is bad luck he has a date. Otherwise, you may have had a chance," he drawled.

"Isn't it?" I feigned thoughtfulness. "I thought he was more _your_ type, though."

"How would you know what my type is?" he smirked.

I opened my mouth to retort; however, as my eyes focused on the sight in front of me, I felt myself draw in a deep intake of breath, all thoughts of Malfoy escaping my brain.

One word to describe our common room: amazing.

I tried to document each detail.

The cream-colored walls curved, creating a uniquely dimensional feeling and only added to its spaciousness. Intricately embroidered rugs were strewn across oak panelled floors and contrasted against the dark cherry wood furniture—complete with various leather sofas, armchairs and a few tables. In the centre sat an ornate, but cosy, red-brick fireplace. A striking chandelier hung above, illuminating it all.

A little ways on either side of the fireplace were two staircases that curved up to two separate rooms—our private bedrooms, I assumed. A large window with a cushioned chaise covered by light curtains was on the right. There was even a _kitchen_, although I wasn't sure why we'd ever need that.

I gasped at the bookshelf on the left. It was enormous, nearly covering half the wall, filled with endless books and publications. I was certain I was in heaven.

"Wow," I breathed. I didn't know _why_ I was complaining earlier. This was so worth it.

"It's nice," said Malfoy, nodding satisfactorily.

I smiled slightly, even though I was still gaping at the assorted spines occupying the shelves.

"Try to contain yourself, Rose," said Malfoy, rolling his eyes and heading up to his room.

I sighed.

Glad I had Malfoy around as my wonderful reminder of reality.

* * *

The next morning I woke up to the sound of my Muggle alarm clock. Its beeping was the most irritating noise _ever—_contested only by the sound of Malfoy's voice, of course.

I groaned into my pillow. It had gotten so cold last night, I had to wear an extra sweater to sleep. The last thing I wanted was to get out of bed.

But we never got what we wanted, did we?

I resignedly pulled myself out of the soft, warm covers, towards the bathroom. I stumbled through my morning routine, only half awake and extremely inattentive.

I was so busy drying my face; I didn't even notice the door open.

"Rose?" said an incredulous voice.

My head snapped towards the all-too-familiar sound.

"Malfoy! What—what are you doing?" I yelled, panicking because he had removed his sweatshirt and dropped it on the floor, and was about to move on to his boxers.

"Shit, I forgot," he muttered.

Because I did too.

I mean, urgh, can you believe it?—we have to _share_ a bathroom. What? Was it really that difficult to add separate bathrooms for us to use?

What was wrong with these people?

"Right," I muttered. "It's fine. I'm done, anyways."

I hurried to walk out of the bathroom, eager to leave this awkward situation behind.

Except after a few steps, I wasn't watching where I was going, and tripped over Malfoy's sweatshirt, falling forward and—

"Take it easy, Rose. No need to throw yourself all over me." Malfoy's arms tightened around me, giving me a full view of his well-defined chest. His fingertips accidentally brushed the exposed part of my stomach as my clothing rose up; a shiver ran up my spine and I stiffened.

I could feel his sardonic chuckle.

This was not how I wanted my first morning of seventh year to go.

In an attempt to save myself from further embarrassment, I pushed myself away from him and straightened up, determined to look anywhere but at his face.

"Er—thanks," I mumbled, quickly running into my bedroom.

That must have been the most horrifying experience of my life.

* * *

"Are you sure you're all right, Rose?" asked Al.

We were sitting in Potions, waiting for the professor to arrive, and I, admittedly, was not taking this morning's occurrences too well.

I mean, the entire thing was just physically scarring. Right?

"Yeah, just fine," I said tightly, playing with the edge of my plaid skirt.

Louis eyed me sceptically. They both exchanged a 'look.'

I gritted my teeth.

Professor Vane marched into the classroom, eyes slightly swollen and irritation written all over her place. I sat up a little straighter, curious to know what was wrong—if only to take my mind off my own twisted issues.

Anyhow, as Vane was known for her many boyfriends, it was likely one of those relationships had just ended. Apparently, during school, she'd tried to charm boys with love potions hidden in chocolates. Uncle Harry had been an unfortunate receiver, and Dad was an accidental victim.

Vane sighed in exasperation, dropping her purse roughly on her desk, and gaining the entire class's attention—if she hadn't already.

I bit my lip. This was never good. She never handled these situations well, and we usually paid for it.

"Class," said Vane. Her clipped tone did not escape my notice and I internally cringed.

"Good morning, Professor Vane." We were careful not to sound too enthusiastic or too dull, as we weren't looking for trouble—though our efforts were probably in vain.

"Today, we will be brewing Amortentia." She paused. "By memory."

I nearly flinched. Even with the recipe, Amortentia was not easy to brew. Attempting it without was an even greater challenge, and I wasn't so sure I would succeed—not in the horribly jumbled state I was in now. The only time I'd made Amortentia was when partnering with Al, and he's a Potions prodigy.

This day just kept on getting better and better. First Malfoy, then Vane. Next, Binns was probably going to declare a mandatory all-night lecture.

Remind to kill myself if that happened.

"Move into alphabetical formation," she continued sharply. "You have until the end of class, which leaves you with just under two hours."

I'd never been so happy for a double period in Potions before. More time meant a greater chance of solving this—which was crucial as Potions was my weakest subject.

I grabbed my belongings and proceeded to insert myself into the alphabetical arrangement. There was hope: Louis was quite good at Potions too. He'd be of some help.

But as I dropped my bag down next to him, he shook his head. I was confused. "Vane's class, remember? Alphabetical by _first _name."

I cursed. Could my luck be any worse?

I mentally pictured our class roster. This left me with . . .

"Quit gaping and sit down, Rose. I believe I told you that last night, didn't I?" said Malfoy, smirk evident as he arranged his potion ingredients.

A girl behind me giggled.

I resisted the urge to take away House points from the girl—_be the bigger person, Rose_—forcing myself to look him in the eye and glare at him instead. "Save your smartarse comments for someone who cares, Malfoy."

His smirk only expanded.

I sighed. Hopefully he'd leave me in peace. I needed to figure this out.

* * *

Half an hour later, I was having no luck at all.

I knew I had the correct ingredients—because I'd subtly glanced over at Malfoy's workspace and compared our materials. But beyond that . . . nada.

He, on the other hand, was breezing through this assignment due to his "eidetic memory"—although no one knew for sure if this was true as it was only a rumour. I frowned as I watched him effortlessly drop in ingredient after ingredient.

I turned my gaze back on my unfortunate-looking cauldron. Its contents resembled melted rubber—in all its gray and despicable glory.

I bit my lip, prepared to try anything. I reached for the asphodel; although I had a sinking suspicion it was completely wrong . . .

"You need to reverse the effects of the valerian roots and the belladonna, and then add an acidic component," came a bored drawl.

I glanced up, surprised. Malfoy was lounging back in his seat, with his arms propped behind his head, calmly waiting as his potion simmered for the next step.

I looked over, unsure of whether or not to trust him.

"What?" he shrugged. "I was getting bored of watching you fail. Your expression is really quite depressing—more so than usual."

I rolled my eyes. Really, I guess since I'd already screwed this up so much, nothing else would really matter at this point.

So, to reverse both of them _and_ make it acidic, I needed . . . boomslang.

As soon as I added the boomslang, it changed into a very light gray colour. I knew instinctively it was right.

Which meant Malfoy was right.

Which meant . . . he helped me?

I sneaked a glance towards him. He was busy chatting up the giggling girl from earlier.

Malfoy helped me _twice_ in one _morning, _because the details for brewing the potion were actually coming to me now that I was able to move past that one sticky step.

I chewed my lip, frowning.

What was the world coming to?

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter! Please tell me what you think about this one!


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